The Rocket's Fuse
by Jambolo
Summary: Detective Inspector Alex Jackson is an international policeman under the jurisdiction of Unova police department. He has been tracking the activities of the criminal organization Team Rocket for three years now and his investigation has brought him to the Island of Kalos. This fanfiction also explores the economy and lives of non-professional trainers living in the pokémon world.
1. Chapter 1 - Homesick In Paradise

**Chapter One - Homesick in Paradise**

The rainfall in Lumiose city was heavier than usual. I'd heard that Kalos in the spring was meant to be like a tropical paradise, but all I'd seen was mud and water. For the last three days the streets had been practically empty, everyone setting up refuge in the Pokémon center whilst those with the wealth chose the local hotel. I stood in my apartment, staring down at the lady in the Galette stand shivering against the cold. She was probably one of the hardest working people in this city; a city focused on fashion and wealth, because that's all that's important: Money, and possibly fame, though the two seem to go exclusively hand in hand to a lucky bunch of kids. They're the ones everyone aspires to be, the ones that'll be remembered. Whilst the rest of society works their asses off trying to keep the world spinning they get to show-boat their skills to their adoring public. Well, we can't all be winners.

I lit up a cigarette and reclined in my armchair. My apartment was full of boxes, full of crap that I'll never use. The fridge remained empty and the oven untouched, though my trash can was full of take-away boxes. The cuisine here was meant to be sublime, the best you'll find anywhere. Of course people didn't ask questions about what they were eating, it's not as though they really cared. It was simply the image. A man seen eating at restaurant _Le Nah_ was practically a peasant compared to someone eating at restaurant Le Wow. And some of the ingrediants used in those dishes...well, let's just say you wouldn't get away with serving that stuff anywhere outside of Kalos.

I felt my hollow clip vibrate against my leg, snapping my mind back into the room. I clicked it open to see a simple message: "Magenta Plaza Pokémon Center" I had waited for that message all day. Walking over to my desk I grabbed my three pokéballs, clipping them to my belt. I ran a hand through my charcoal hair and across my stubbled face; this wasn't a kid's game anymore.

I trudged through the rain, pulling the tip of my black fisherman's hat over the front of my face. I knew these streets well by now, even in the sodden dark. A taxi whizzed past me, splashing a muddy puddle across my jacket. That was pretty typical of drivers in this area, not that it really mattered, I was already sodden to the bone. I saw the bright orange light in the distance and began to pick up my pace.

The inviting warmth of the Pokémon center seemed to warm me from within. This was soon emancipated by the smell of sodden denim emanating from the group of shivering people stood around me. There were at least 300 people crammed in the building, steam rising off of all of them. Most of them were trainers, mere children, unshackled by debt and taxation and a few were professional adult trainers, somehow making a living in this city.

The queue to the counter of the centre was overwhelming. They only had six nurses on the job and they were all looking highly strung. If anything were to kick of there would be chaos, and with chaos comes destruction and with destruction comes injury. I didn't need that crap. I walked to the edge of the center around a seating area where a group of trainers were sat around. Somehow I managed to find a free seat in between a biker and a teenage hipster. The seat was both damp and warmer than I would have been comfortable with, but it also offered a great observation of the entire building. I could see the changing area, where people were queuing to change out of their sodden clothes, the store where people were restocking on Pokéballs and peddling crap they found outside and the stairs to the sleeping area, where people were setting up camp for the night. Though I couldn't clearly see the nurses behind the desk, I could see the people queuing up waiting. My Hollow Clip vibrated again and I looked down to see another message: "By the Mart." My eyes instantly shot over to the shopping area, scanning for anyone who looked out of place. The key colour was black, though that seemed to be what everyone was wearing around these parts. I looked out for suspicious movements, maybe people attempting to hide their faces, though as it turned out, he wasn't too worried about that.

By the time I saw him, it was already too late. He had reached into his pocket and dashed his pokéball onto the ground. This was no accidental fumble, or a trainer letting his Pokémon stretch its legs, this guy was ready to make a statement. As soon as I saw that orb-like Pokémon appear from the ball I leapt out of my seat. By my first step, the Pokémon had begun to glow, by my second step people were scattering away from there, by my third step half of the entrance to the Pokémart had been blown apart. As the dust cleared the man stood on top of the rubble, pulling off his sodden coat, revealing a giant red letter "R". So it was true, they had reached the Kalos region. The man, who could only have been in his early 20s at the most, was laughing maniacally, holding five other pokéballs in his hand.

"Well helloooooo Lumiose!" The young man shouted, carelessly juggling his pokéballs "I have a gift for all of you from our good friends at Team Rocket." A few trainers had gathered around, instinctively reaching for their pokéballs. The idiots, they were only going to complicate things! "Ah ah ahhh!" the young man said, shaking his head "That Voltorb was just the baby, the runt of the litter, if you will; my next few guys can take out more than just a little wall" The trainers gritted their teeth and took their hands away from their belts. "You see, I don't have time to be dealing with heroes, I'm just here to send a message to the people of Lumiose and to the people of Kalos-" I managed to edge my way forwards through the crowd, until I was practically in spitting distance from him. "-you see, we're kind of a big deal, the kinda guys you don't want to ignore. "We don't just operate underground, we're everywhere you see, hell, we hide within plain site!" A group of people in the crowd pulled off their jackets and jumped into the centre, holding their pokéballs in the air threateningly. I quickly counted them; there were six of them, including the leader. None of them looked a day of twenty. "You see, this city isn't run by any form of democracy anymore-" this was getting out of hand fast, there was only one thing that I could do now "-because this city is soon to be under new management-" the man threw the ball high into the air. I couldn't risk it any longer. I reached to my Hollow Clip "-so let's celebrate our change of management with some FIREWORKS!"

The ball spun in the air, and every eye was focused on its movement. I felt a surge of people pushing against me, trying to run in the opposite direction. I not only held my ground, I took a step forward.

"You know, kids like you shouldn't let their mouths cash checks that their pokéballs can't cash." I shouted. The pokéball fell to the ground, unopened. Everyone went silent, staring down at the ball. The youths in black all looked from the ball, up to me, their bodies shaking. Without hesitation the boy grabbed another pokéball and threw it directly at me. I snatched it out of the air and threw it to the floor. "I know, failure to perform can be a serious issue, especially when so young," I said, stepping towards the youths. They all reached for their pokéballs but I shook my head. "Give it a rest kids, every pokéball within a 60 meter radius is locked up right now." The trainers behind me all checked their pokéballs and a worried murmur arose around me."You see, I work for the Unova international police department," I held my badge up towards the boys "and we've been tracking you guys for some time now. To be honest I thought you guys would have been a little more conspicuous than this." The boys were now shaking, their eyes fixed on me.

"So what, gramps? You're going to try and arrest us?" One of the youths shouted his eyes manically wide.

"That was kind of the plan, yeah" I said, whipping the cap off my head, "though it's up to you guys how difficult that will be." Within a second one of the boys had lunged at me. It was laughable to think that I wouldn't expect a move like that, the inexperienced fighters always rush in. He was simple enough to evade, with a couple of well timed steps I worked my way behind him and without any hesitation swept his legs out from underneath him causing his body to crumple onto the ground. Within seconds his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was at this point that two of the other youths decided to charge in. They came from behind, arms swinging. Much like their friend, they had no idea what they were doing. By the time they had reached me I was already ready for them. Their flailing arms were unpredictable, but had no real power behind them. I managed to get a firm grip on both of their wrists, spin them around and kick both their legs out from underneath them. They both slumped to the floor, panting frantically. As I placed the cuffs on them, I looked over at the other three who had remained fixed on the spot, glaring. "So, they decided to choose the hard way, how about you guys?"

` Well of course, they tried to make a break for it. To be honest fleeing into the crowd would have made them almost impossible to spot - if it hadn't been for the wall of people ready to jump in and knock the crap out of them. Within seconds the three of them had been restrained and thrown onto the floor. It was good to see cooperation from the public, even if it was more violent than was probably necessary. I managed to latch a set of cuffs onto the restrained boys and pushed them into the corner, as I waited for the local authorities to arrive.

Within an hour the uniforms scoured the area for information and then proceeded to drag the young men out of the building. I gave my statement to an officer who greeted me with a constant look of disdain. It was a look I was used to. My superiors operate on a different jurisdiction to the local authorities, which means a lot of information can get lost in translation, sometimes literally. Though the information gathered on the event previous to this operation had been made available to the local authorities, a lot of information regarding our execution was left out; namely, the manner in which I handled the situation. Not that it was meant to come to that, I was meant to avoid use of _that _device to the best of my ability, and no doubt my superiors would give me a load of crap for it later. The important thing was that no one seemed to have been injured and there was only really a small amount of cosmetic damage dealt to the center. Of course, our suspicions had now been confirmed: Team Rocket had expanded its operations to Kalos. This didn't seem like a grand operation, more a warning of things to come. These guys were just scrubs, barely even green. The bigger threats were still out there, which meant something much more dangerous was on the horizon.

It seemed my trip to Kalos was going to be a good bit longer than I had hoped.


	2. Chapter 2 Bad Cop, Smart Cop

**Chapter 2 – Bad Cop, Smart Cop**

"Now I'm going to ask you one more time, and if you even think about letting a smart-ass comment pass those lips, you're going to be having a serious conversation with the back of my hand!" The red faced policeman continued to yell at the youth. He had been in the interrogation room for twenty minutes now and all that had left his lips were expletives. I stood on the sidelines watching in, I had gotten far too involved with local matters already. Sadly the policeman left with this youth was barely a few years older than him. His short brown hair had been in a perfect side parting when he entered the room, but now it was pushed back over itself. It's a trait you'll see in a lot of men on the force, it's probably why we all end up with receding hairlines. Of course the young man was acting much cooler now he was safely sat in the station; he kept looking over to me and smiling, possibly hoping that I'd join in the fray. Little did he know how much trouble he was actually in.

"I haven't got anything to say to you, you're just a Lillipup pretending he's an Arcanine." The boy continued to stare at me, a huge smile pushing its way across his face. At this the officer completely lost his cool, he lunged for the boy, his arm pulled back ready to strike. I only just managed to grab him before he smashed his fist into the side of the young man's face. The youth remained cool, he didn't even flinch; he just leaned back in his chair grinning at the two of us. 'I'm under police custody,' he said rolling his eyes over to me "I have my rights, you can't touch me." I looked down at the young man, and let out a resigned sigh. I casually strolled over to the corner of the room, picked up a pile of papers and slammed them down onto the table. I was hoping it wouldn't need to come to this.

"One count of criminal damage, one count of disturbing the peace, one count of reckless endangerment, one count of conspiring to perform an act of terror, one act of terrorism- and that was just today, who knows what else we'll dig up on you." The young man didn't look phased at all; he just stared up at me, smiling. "You're going to face charges one way or another," I said, walking to the right side of him, "it's up to you to decide how long you'll be there."

The young officer chimed in, right on cue "You're looking at at least ten years, that's pretty much half your entire lifetime over again."

"Ten years?" the young man's cool demeanour seemed to have been knocked off its footing "f-for an act of vandalism and shouting some junk to a crowd of people?"

"Well you see," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder "a jury will look into the intent of your actions. You were in a public place, full of people, threatening to blow it up, which to a point you did do."

"What's wrong?" The officer said with a laugh, moving his way to the other side of the youth, "you were so cock-sure a few moments ago; swearing, shouting. Is it beginning to feel real yet? You're in some deep crap kid and you're going to serve the time unless you cooperate!"

"But no one would have been hurt, everyone knows that a trainer's Pokémon isn't able to harm a human being, no one was in any real danger." The young man had seriously lost his cool now, you often see that when you bring out the hypothetical charges.

"Well no, your Pokémon would have caused no direct damage to the people within its vicinity," I said, leaning over him, "but had that debris from the explosion struck someone – well, that could have been a serious injury, if not worse.' I gripped my hand on the young man's shoulder, "People could have been hurt, someone could have been killed, all for some dumb message. Are the people you're working for really that important to you?" I released my grip on the young man's shoulder and took a step back out in front of him. "Look, I've dealt with members of team rocket, from the bottom grunts to the higher executives; it doesn't take a genius to know where you stand. Judging by your dialect you're a Kalos lad, you have no business working with these criminals." I turned my back on the boy and walked towards the door. Turning around I gained eye contact with him again. The arrogant expression on his face had been replaced with the look you tend to only see in a child lost in a convenience store. "You don't owe these people anything, you mean nothing to them and that is exactly how they will treat you. Now, I'm going to give you some time to think things through; perhaps you'll remember something you'd care to share with us. It would be mutually beneficial so please, give it some thought. If you do happen to remember...something, then please pass it along to my associate here, mr –"

"Deputy Beaumont," the policeman responded, eagerly taking a seat in front of the young man, 'and I'll make sure to keep you up to date mr-

"Jackson, Detective Inspector Jackson," I grabbed my coat from a stand by the door and pulled the door ajar, "and I hope to be hearing from you soon, Deputy."

As I left the local precinct it seemed that the rain had finally begun to let up, dripping only light specks of water onto my jacket. It was very late, or very early depending on your viewpoint. In another few hours the sun would probably be rising, most likely bringing forward a whole crap-storm of its own. Resigned to the fact that I had very little sleep to look forward to, I trudged home.

All I was ready for was a long sleep and perhaps a couple of sips of some grimer-grade whiskey to settle me down, but as it turned out that would have to wait. As I walked out onto the landing just outside the front door I noticed a few things. Firstly the mass of muddy footprints covered the yellow tiles, not that that was really out of place, especially not in this block. My door swinging wide open amidst a gentle breeze on the other hand, that was a cause for concern.

I pushed the door open slowly and saw that my floor was covered in a trail of muddy footprints. My eyes tracked them around the room, watching them weave around my coffee table, over to my fridge, into the bathroom and finally disappearing behind my bedroom door. Obviously someone had made themselves at home. I shut the front door, slipped off my shoes, took off my coat and hat and walked over to the open window that was clapping itself against its frame. Slowly, I approached my bedroom door and noticed it was ajar. Carefully, I pushed my hand against it and applied a small amount of pressure. The hinges made a loud squeaking and I heard a small familiar grunt coming from inside the dark bedroom. I already had a good idea who it was. I flicked the light switch on to reveal a young man collapsed across my bed. He had shoulder length black hair, a small frame and large, sleepy looking brown eyes. He looked up dozily and gave me a sleepy grin.

'Sup boss' he said, resting his head back on the pillow.

'What the hell are you doing in my house?' I said, pushing the young man off the side of my bed and collapsing onto it myself. The young man fell to the floor with a dull thump and let out a muffled objection. The young man's name was Makoto Takaya. Like me, he was a foreigner in these parts, but he came from the Kanto region. Makoto managed to pull himself onto his knees.

'Where the hell was I suppose to stay, I've been stuck in that damn Pokémon center for the last week.'

'Well if you want to put forward the rent money then I'm sure you can find a nice place with a view.' I said, rolling over onto my side.

'Don't you want to know how I got in here?' Makoto asking, apparently much more alert and awake than he was a mere seconds ago.

'I just want to not be conscious for a few hours if that's alright with you?' I said letting my eyelids drift closer together.

'Can I at least sleep on your sofa?'

I don't remember if I responded or not, by that point I was past human interaction. My body was sore, aching and a lot heavier than I was used to. I was getting much too old to be going toe to toe with kids nearly half my age, no matter how inexperienced they may be. The reality of it all was staring me in the face and I was doing my best to not look it in the eye. Everyone has a fuse, some longer than others, and I could tell that mine had clearly reached the half way point. I was only going to get weaker from here on out and no amount of experience can counteract the weakness of age. I sighed and felt my mind drift into unconsciousness. As usual, the image of her smiling face crept its way into my mind. It had been five years.

"Hey boss, boss. Ferroseed-face. Mr J, you gonna wake up?" My eyes opened to an unrelenting beam of light that my curtains could not hold back. "Your Holo Clip has been buzzing for the last hour; don't you think you should check it?" I turned and stared at Makoto, he was waving my Holo Clip uncomfortably close to my face.

"What time is it?" I asked, lifting my upper body off the mattress.

"It's just gone 7am," Makoto said, pushing the Holo Clip into my hands "I think you should check this out, it sounded pretty urgent." I looked down at the Holo Clip and saw eight missed calls from Lumiose Police Department.

"Go figure," I said, pushing my legs over the side of the bed "I suppose they'll allow me to sleep when I'm dead." Raising myself onto my feet, I hobbled over to the bedroom door and leaned against it for a moment. I felt the room merry-go-rounding continuously for a moment. I took a deep breath and brushed my greasy hair out of my eyes.

I approached the front door to find a nervous looking officer waiting for me. "Mr Jackson?" He asked, his voice shaking. His eyes were wide and his left leg seemed to be twitching. "We- I was sent to – to come and ask you to..." The officer trailed off, but I got the gist of it.

"The station?" the officer nodded and gestured me to follow. I picked up my coat and hat and shut the door behind me.

During the walk to the station the officer didn't so much as utter a single syllable; he simply stared down at the ground, his hands dug deeply into his pockets. We were walking at a much faster speed than I was comfortable with, but it didn't take a genius to know that this was urgent. As we came closer to the building I could already see a crowd of people gathered by the station. The closer we got, the louder the noise became. Panicked voices, asking questions, passing theories and raising objections at the surrounding authorities. Barriers had been put in place to hold back civilians, and guards patrolled the area with military grade Furfrou on tight leads. As we reached the crowd we were set upon by groups of panicked reporters asking for a statement. I kept my head down and ducked underneath the barrier.

Deputy Beaumont stood at the entrance of the building, his face as pale as the other officer. He gestured me into the building. As we walked through he closed the doors behind us, muffling the sound of the objecting public.

"Inspector Jackson,"

"Where's the witness," I said, coldly staring Beaumont in the eyes.

"We don't know how,"

"Where is he?" Beaumont nodded and opened the door to the lock-up. The smell hit me instantly; it was a smell I was tragically accustomed to. "When did this-" Beaumont was staring past me, his eyes then focused onto me and he gestured me to go inside. I took a deep breath and stepped into the block.

There were 16 cells in the lock-up, but only one of them was occupied. My eyes struggled to focus on what I was seeing, but my mind knew all too well. That young man, who only yesterday was the thorn in my side, now lay motionless across the cell floor. He lay in a pool of his blood, which seeped from an open slash across his chest. I turned to Beaumont who gestured me back in again, but refused to go inside himself. "The wall." He whispered, before covering his mouth with his hand. My eyes focused back onto the boy's lifeless body, over to the back wall, in which I could make out a shape. It was lettering, a message, written in the boy's blood. The message seemed to have been written in the Kanto dialect. It simply said: "Loyalty is our only virtue." I took a step back from the cell and turned to Beaumont.

"Get this place locked down now" I said hoarsely, pushing him out of the doorway "and get me a list of _every_ officer working between 3am and 6am last night."


	3. Chapter 3 Interrogating Insomniacs

**Chapter 3 Interrogating Insomniacs**

"An empty cell block, no forced entry, no video surveillance and one dead local youth," I stood at the front of the station's lecture theatre. The room was quite large, able to seat at least 300 people, but there were only seven of us: five Uniforms, Deputy Beaumont and myself. Yesterday none of them looked a day over 20, but today they all looked 20 years older. "So obviously the first question we need to ask: what the hell happened to this kid?" I switched on the projector and a picture of the boy's body taken by forensics flashed up onto the screen. Two of the younger officers recoiled at the sight, not that their reactions meant anything, they were all liable for what had happened last night. One of the younger officers raised his hand in the air and I nodded towards him. He stood up quickly, his body visibly shaking.

"Officer Paquet," The young man said, closing his eyes in concentration "Mr Jackson on behalf of everyone at the Lumiose Precinct-"

"Sit the hell down!" I shouted with a rush of frustration, slamming my hand on the desk. "A young man is dead, his body carted out to a bunch of media vultures and you're trying to apologise to _me_? This is a human life that was taken last night, under _your_ protection. This goes beyond professional incompetence, this is criminal negligence!" The room was silent and I took a deep breath and regained my cool. I pressed a switch on the projector and the picture zoomed into the gushing wound on the young man's chest. The gash was a few inches thick and came down from his left shoulder, down to his stomach. The depth of the wound was not completely apparent in the picture, but his lungs, heart and stomach had all been ruptured. "The wound on this boy's body was beyond the capabilities of a normal human being. The cut went through flesh, bone, muscle and ligaments. The only real reassuring news is that the extensiveness of the damage means that he most likely didn't suffer in that state for long." My eyes darted over to Beaumont who seemed to be doing his best to not look directly at the scene. I pressed another button on the projector and the picture of the boy's body was replaced by the message written in the boy's blood: _Loyalty is our only virtue. _"Now I appreciate that many of you are not familiar with the Kanto dialect," I said, zooming in on the message "but I would hope that you would recognise this message-"

"The unofficial motto of Team Rocket!"

"Paquet, shut the hell up! But yes, this is the motto adopted by team rocket a year ago. It was posted all over the streets of Driftveil city following the dissolution of Team Plasma. Some see it as their calling card and it is usually followed by something catastrophic." I switch off the projector and walk over to the officers. "Now it kills me to say this, but you are all involuntary accessories to this crime. In the next seven hours I will hopefully also rule out the possibility that one of you idiots is anything more than that."

So my day of interrogation began, I started with Officer Paquet as I was pretty sure the anticipation would more than likely kill him. He sat in the seat of the interrogation room, looking at me with wide eyes. I had no reason to play any games here.

"Mr Paquet, obviously you know as an officer of the law that you are bound to an oath that you will not lie to any federal agent, no matter what jurisdiction the officer is bound to, provided it is integral to an ongoing investigation." Paquet nodded, his breathing was fairly heavy. "This means that I am able to use any methods to confirm that you are indeed telling the truth."

"I am aware and give my full consent; I have nothing to hide sir."

"Well then we will have nothing to worry about then," I said reaching towards my belt. I picked a pokéball from it and tossed it into the air. There was a flash of light, within it appeared the green and red head of Ralts. Ralts looked up towards Paquet and leapt onto the table. "Ralts is a very special pokémon," I said, lighting a cigarette, "it has a unique ability to sense a sudden shift in human emotions, helping me trace whether an individual is unnerved or undergoing a serious emotional imbalance. It's my own personal lie-detector." I turned to Ralts and patted it on the head. "Of course, it is not 100% so I can't _legally_ use it when interrogating civilians." Ralts turned to me and confirmed that it was ready. I nodded back at it and focused my gaze on Paquet. "So Mr Paquet, can you tell me exactly what occurred on your shift last night."

Paquet left the interrogation room in tears, but absolved of any major involvement. As I continued to interrogate the individual officers it was apparent that none of them understood how the prisoner had been murdered. Judging by the information gathered the victim was under constant surveillance for the entire night. The room was then locked securely from the outside and the only entrance guarded and monitored. Pulling up surveillance of the entrance of the cellblock it was clear that no one left or entered the cellblock before the body was found. My eyes had become blood-shot as I looked over the evidence I had compiled. I only had one further person to interview.

Beaumont sat in the interrogation seat, his eyes focused fixedly on the table in front of him. As I entered I already had Ralts resting on my shoulder. I sat down in front of Beaumont and opened up my case file.

"You know I never thought this job would be easy," Beaumont said, looking down at the table. "I obviously knew that there would be dangers and injury."

"I suppose this is the first homicide case you've covered," I said, placing the documents back on the table "and yet you've been in the job long enough to reach deputy, that says a great deal about this city I suppose."

"This isn't Unova," Beaumont said, looking up at me "people don't settle disputes with weapons; they settle them with pokémon battles and wine."

"Well that's a very idealistic view you have there Beaumont," I said staring him straight in the eye, "but in no society has a human being ever been beyond murder. We're not so different from pokémon, in the past we fought battles, using pokémon to kill and maim our enemies, hell some of the old timers reminisce about those days with rose-tinted goggles, seeing the glory in the deaths and the mayhem-"

"I am no veteran," Beaumont shouted, his pupils shaking violently "I am not a killer, nor am I fighter, all I want is to - is to protect!" I looked at Beaumont, he was obviously masking his fear and frustration with defiant self-righteousness.

"That's interesting that you say that," I said, leaning towards him "I seem to remember having to wrestle you away from the young man yesterday, you seemed pretty frustrated if you don't mind me saying-"

"That was a moment of weakness!" Beaumont shouted, knocking my files off the table "The little brat was being so smug and irritating that I-"

"Lost control?" I interrupting, placing my files back on the table, "You see, that's very easy to do, a man that loses his grip on his mental state revert to his base instincts, instincts that can result in violence. You see how this may look in the context of this investigation-"

"I never touched the man!" Beaumont stood up sharply, his eyes now redder than my own "he was about to pass on some crucial information, it was under my orders that he be guarded under a locked door."

"And it was under your supervision that the boy was killed." I said calmly remaining in my seat.

"That was far beyond my control!" Beaumont said, apparently regaining some of his calm. He sat back down in his seat and grabbed the file. He flicked through it quickly, before tossing a page over to me. "There is one entrance into that building. One. I had that entrance locked and guarded. There is no conceivable way that someone could have broken in without us knowing or without any form of forced entry." My eyes focused onto Ralts who gave me a confirming nod. I picked up the sheet that Beaumont had passed to me; it was a schematic of the cell-block. It was built to the standards of a maximum security prison. The door itself was controlled by an electronic lock that could only be opened with a unique pass code. Suddenly something clicked in my mind. I looked back up at Beaumont and stood up quickly.

"Do you keep a record of when the locks were opened?" Beaumont blinked at me for a moment and then his eyes suddenly widened.

The records of the electronic lock had been completely overlooked as the surveillance of the door showed no signs of the door being moved. Of course surveillance tapes are easily doctored and in most cases offer only a small insight into what actually occurred. The electronic locks however could tell us so much more. The surveillance tapes showed that no one entered the cell block after the lockdown at 1:30am, 30 minutes before the preliminary time the murder occurred.

I sat in the interrogation room flicking through the recently compiled evidence, waiting for Beaumont to return with the printouts. The door was literally the only way into the cell, the surveillance tapes must have been tampered with. Of course, if that was the case then that would mean that this murder was indeed an inside job. There was a sudden knock at the door and I quickly turned around to see Officer Paquet stood with a small file.

"Were you all present upon printing?" I asked as he approached the door.

"Yes sir," he said, placing the file on the table in front of me "no one had an opportunity to make any alterations to the information." I nodded and flicked the file open.

"And did any of you read it before or after printing?"

"Neither the file, nor the information in said file have been viewed by anyone." Paquet said, his eyes were bloodshot and his patchy stubble was leaving a dark shadow around his face. I nodded towards him and he shut the door.

You may think me paranoid, or over secretive, but it was important that this information was seen by no one who was present at the time of the murder. The file contained the names and badge number of each officer that entered the code of that door. If there was indeed the name and code of one of the officers in question any time after 1:30 and before 5:30am then that officer would most likely be accessory to the murder. I scanned the file quickly, looking past the ones that had already been recorded on the surveillance tapes. I reached the end of the page and felt my heart sink. The door remained locked between 1:30 and 5:30am. I slammed my head on the table in frustration. Of course it couldn't be this easy, it never was. I lifted my head back on the desk and looked at the file and all the names and numbers listed. Suddenly, something caught my eye. The numbers of every officer within the precinct began with _70_, but there was another badge number beginning with the numbers _10._ I looked over at the name next to it. Not only was it a name I recognised, it was a person I was very well acquainted with.

I left the interrogation room and stood by the entrance of the precinct. I rubbed my hands across my eyes and then pulled my Holo Clip from my pocket. His number was still keyed into it. The Holo Clip rang for a moment before there was the sound of scrambling.

"Well if it isn't Mr Jackson," a thick Kanto dialect came buzzing through my Holoclip "what can I do for you-"

"Let's cut the pleasantries Looker, I want to know what you were doing between the hours of 1:30 and 5:30am last night.


	4. Chapter 4 Looking Back

Chapter 4 – Looking Back

The lights of Café flare dimly lit the surrounding room. The decor was tasteless to say the least: red carpets, red walls, red lights, the place could have easily passed as a brothel, but it was still one of the most popular hangouts in the city. Everyone wanted to see the place where a megalomaniac set out to wipe all life on the planet. Well Lysandre had been locked away for seven years now, but on the outside, like a lot of infamous lunatics, he had developed this cult following. Teenagers sported the uniform and its logo, seeing it as some sort of counter-cultural fashion statement. No one of them put any consideration into what that uniform represented; they just thought it was something cool to wear.

I had finally decided to let the officers get some rest and had sent them back home, having no real reason to suspect any of them at this point in time; also I needed an opportunity to get away. I had some serious business to deal with and an old friend to speak to. This was the place he had chosen to meet in: a bar full of loud youths looking for some form of escapism.

I was sat in a booth at the corner of the café. I had ordered a glass of scotch from the red haired girl behind the bar. She, like almost everyone else in the café, seemed to be donning the trademark Flare shirt, which she had incorporated with her own choice of accessories. Obviously I stood out like an Onix in an Oddish farm, clad in my grimy jacket and yesterday's clothes, but no one appeared to be taking any note, they just continued to laugh and shout to each other. I took a sip from my glass and heard the door of the café open. I was glad to see that I wasn't the only one completely out of place. His appearance hadn't seemed to have changed in the last five years. His hair was longer and was showing visible signs of greying, his long brown jacket, that had stood the test of time better than either of us could ever have hoped to, was draped over his shoulders atop his dark green suit. Our eyes made contact and neither of us blinked. For a moment he lingered in the doorway before grinning and walking over to my table.

"Well Mr Jackson it has indeed been too long!" Looker exclaimed, pushing his hand towards mine in an uncomfortable shake, "I haven't seen you since that business in Castelia three years ago." I shook Looker's hand and gestured for him to sit down.

"Actually it was five years ago," I said, waving my hand over to the girl at the bar "What are you getting, a whiskey?"

"Five years, really? It seems a lot less than that; I suppose we're really becoming old timers now eh. Oh just a water for me thanks." Looker took his jacket off his shoulders and carefully folded it over the back of his chair. "Well I wasn't expecting to see you in Kalos at all, especially not with your fussy palette."

"I go where the bureau sends me," I said, resting my hand on my knee, which seemed to be twitching. I couldn't let myself get sucked into pleasantries like this; I needed to confront Looker about his whereabouts of the previous night. Before I could say anything however his tone had suddenly turned.

"I heard what happened to that kid," he said, looking me dead in the eye "sorry but we don't have time to mess about with pleasantries, I can already tell that you have the impression that I had something to do with it."

"I have my suspicions, I'll admit," I said running my finger along the rim of my glass "but I'm not going to start making accusations against someone, especially not someone who was once my superior." Looker smiled and shook his head.

"That's not how I trained you; if you don't dig for information you'll only get the outer layer of facts: the hearsay and the rumours." Looker's water was placed down next to him and he nodded politely towards the waitress. "Not that I'm sure why you actually suspect me anyway, I was only present at the station for a short while, following up on your hijinks at the pokémon center, kudos on that by the way. The deputy let me speak to the boy for a moment, but he had very little to say to me."

"Deputy Beaumont had no recollection of you ever visiting the station." Looker looked taken aback by this statement.

"Well that's just impossible, he personally showed me to the cell-"

"The security cameras showed no evidence of you entering the cell or even the building for that matter." Looker stared at me, pondering my statement. A frown came across his brow and he looked over at my briefcase. Sheets of paper were protruding from the corners, having been hastily packed away at the station.

"Well that certainly is a doozy," Looker said, sipping his water "though if I was in your spot do you think I would be ready to arrest you right now and call it quits?" We both stared at each other for a moment before we both broke into laughter.

"You have no motive, no history of violence and no connection to the victim outside the few minutes you apparently spoke with him. But if that's the case-"

"Then why does no one remember my presence?" Looker arched an eyebrow and ran a hand along his heavily stubbled chin "the footage must have been doctored, but that would imply that someone from the inside would have had access to it. Of course there is still the issue of the officer's memories of the nights before-"

"Ralts confirmed that they were telling the truth-"

"Or they believed they were telling the truth. Your Ralts measures the emotions of the person I believe, it is based around their levels of emotional stress when a certain issue is raised-"

"So if their recollections of the event had somehow been altered-"

"Exactly, they believe that they are telling the truth, when in fact they are living out an illusion, an altered reality in their mind, where the events occurred entirely how they perceived them." I stared at Looker as he finished his statement and swigged the last of my scotch.

"So you believe that not only the video surveillance system was doctored, but the officers' own memories as well? That's far beyond the capabilities of any technology I've heard of." Looker nodded and tapped the table in consideration.

"There is a lot of experimental technology out there at the moment: machines that control dreams, pokéballs machines that allow you to catch a trainer's pokémon, pokéballs that never fail to catch to name but a few, but that stuff is extremely rare and hard to come across. There is another alternative of course." Looker reached to his belt and placed three pokéballs onto the table.

"Impossible," I said quickly, pushing the pokéballs back to him "there's no way for a trainer's pokémon to harm or manipulate a human being." Looker picked up one of the pokéballs and held it up to the light.

"It's easy to assume that everything works in the way it is supposed to. But what if a person were able to bypass the restrictions of their pokémon's attack? Perhaps the culprit has learnt of a way." I tapped the side of my empty glass as I considered Looker's words.

"Without those limitations it would be easy to make a pokémon commit a murder. The young man was cut by what looked like a claw, perhaps a bladed arm, maybe a Scyther or a Bisharp?"

"A pokémon murder? I suppose that means no actual blood on the culprit's hands," Looker opened up his Holo Clip and started flicking through screens.

"If this is the case then someone has found a way to bypass one of the core mechanics of pokéball technology. In any circumstance it seems like we are dealing with a culprit who is very technically minded and has access to rare and experimental technology." Looker looked up at me and raised his eyebrows

"Why should we restrict this to one individual?" I blinked at Looker and let out a sigh. It appeared I was right back where I had started.

"They do have the motive and the means to carry out the hit," I said running a hand through my hair "but something just doesn't seem right about it, why would Team Rocket make the effort to place the blame on someone else, whilst also plastering their motto on the wall in the victim's blood?" Looker gave a weak smile and shook his head.

"This isn't something that will just fall into place," he said, grabbing my glass and passing it over to the waitress "right now all of your evidence is circumstantial and it currently leaves me as the prime suspect. Obviously I would be grateful if you could do something about that. You're not back where you're started, in fact you're pretty well ahead now. You're going to need to get the crucial information right from the Horsea's mouth and that means tracking and communicating with an actual member of Team Rocket."

"If I come into contact with a member of Team Rocket I will be making sure to send them down to the station right away!"

"That is an option, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you will gain any information. Look at the last member you interrogated. News travels fast around here so every Rocket will be well aware of what can happen to them in police custody. You need to communicate with them on their own ground. How you go about doing that is your own choice." The palms of my hands were now sweaty. Looker was not the sort of guy to falter at undercover work, but this was more than that. I was infamous within the Rocket circle so anyone who knew anything of significance would probably also know who I am and what I have done. This had all escalated past the point of no return and the only person that seemed to be offering me any assistance was currently the most seemingly guilty person.

"You are aware that your involvement means that I can't currently allow you to leave the city." I said, struggling to swallow.

"Yes, I completely understand," Looker said with a smile "to be honest I already have some business with some local trainers in the area."

"You're still mixing teenagers up in police matters?" Looker glared at me and then let out a chuckle.

"I just see the potential in a lot of trainers; if we can rely on the public to help us then we have the support of the masses." I nodded again and picked up my briefcase.

"Well I had better be going," I said, leaving a couple of notes next to my empty glass. "I haven't really slept in the last 48 hours so hopefully I can try and catch up on some of that tonight." Looker nodded and finished off his water. As I passed him he grabbed my wrist and I turned back around to him.

"You always were a talented kid Jackson," he said with a look of sincerity that I had only ever seen in his most drunken of states "I've actually been training a young man; he reminds me a lot of you if I'm honest. We were both there at the pokémon center that night; we both saw how you handled the situation. After it all went down he turned to me and told me how outstanding you were and if I could train him to be just like you. I'll have to introduce you when we next meet."

"Sounds good," I said patting him on the shoulder "just don't push the kid too hard, one of me is bad enough."

I exited the café feeling the weight of the last few days finally dragging me down. I decided to hop in a taxi, which drove with the same lack of personal safety as every other vehicle in the city. I arrived at my apartment feeling exhausted and travel sick.

As I entered my apartment I saw that Makoto had set up a game's console in the corner of the room, which he was intently fixated on. I slammed the door and his head suddenly jolted in my direction.

"Where the hell have you been?" He asked, throwing his controller down on the floor "You've been gone all day, would it have killed you to leave a message. I let out a sigh, threw my coat and hat onto the floor and collapsed onto the sofa.

"I'm sorry, when did you become my wife?" Makoto rolled his eyes at me and threw a bag of potato chips in my direction. "I'm good thanks." I muttered into the cushions of the sofa.

Tiredness had finally consumed me, dragging me away into a collection of nightmarish images. So much was left unsolved, so many pieces that just didn't fit together. Tomorrow I would have to consult all the evidence that I have gathered and try to work out the next step of my investigation. Assuming those two things would actually correspond. That night, I fell into a deeper sleep than I had in years, knowing full well that tomorrow would bring me no further ease.


End file.
